Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in. Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lacked anything. A guest, I answered, worthy to be here: Love said, You shall be he. I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee. Love took my hand, and smiling did reply, Who made the eyes but I? Truth, Lord, but I have marred them: let my shame Go where it doth deserve. And know you not, said Love, who bore the blame? My dear, then I will serve. You must sit down, said Love, and taste my meat. So I did sit and eat. -- George Herbert
